


Honeyed Words, Honeyed Mouth

by naegiriko



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Banter, Come Swallowing, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Bottom, Power Dynamics, Power Exchange, so much guard dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naegiriko/pseuds/naegiriko
Summary: “Don't suppose you'd enchant my sword? Dull old blade can barely cut butter."“I’d do anything for a bit of coin. Wait, which sword are you talking about?”---The Dragonborn enchants somebody's sword. For free.





	Honeyed Words, Honeyed Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> typical twink dragonborn sucks off bear guard in whiterun alleyway. that's it. that's the whole fic. 
> 
> happy pride!!!
> 
> i'm back from my long absence. <3

“Don't suppose you'd enchant my sword? Dull old blade can barely cut butter."

“I’d do anything for a bit of coin. Wait, which sword are you talking about?” 

The guard’s helmeted countenance swiveled around in surprise. It was rare to have someone answer his quips and quotes on the job, and that was usually part of the fun. Nagging and chatting, trying to make the hours on duty go by faster. 

The responder was a young thing; couldn’t be much older than twenty winters. He was garbed in a light fit of armor, with some kind of sigil on his shoulder and a piece of cloth like mage robes fitted into his belt. A jeweled amulet hung around his dainty neck. He looked quite charming and important in his get up; rich and young. Perhaps he looked like an easy target for some ransom money, but it was the fine sword dangling low at his belt that led the guard to believe otherwise. It shimmered with magic, and he feared the enchantment he had bound to it.

“Quite a dirty mouth on you, boy. Not right to tease a guard like that, when he’s trying to protect a city.”

“You think too highly of yourself. I bet you haven’t even killed a dragon before. Like you said, your blade can barely cut butter.” 

The stranger’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief. The guard knew his type, in their prime, aware of their charms. Ready to pounce on older men at a moment’s notice, just to push their buttons. The real fun lay in stuffing their mouths full so they couldn’t talk back.

“And you, lad? You fancy yourself a dragonslayer? You think little spells and sparkly pigstickers like that can protect you from a dragon?”

The younger man giggled into his hand. He looked up at the guard with defiance before inching up to his ear. 

“If I wanted, I could shout you to death. Just like Ulfric did to the High King. Except I could do it with fire, or frost, too.”

The guard’s jaw went slack. He had heard tell of the Dragonborn, yet it seemed unlikely that the bold, skinny man in front of him could wield so much power in his veins. Heat welled up in the guard’s face. He felt like he should be more reverent to someone who had survived Helgen and who could kill him in a moment. However, some part of him burned with lust thinking about bedding the powerful little brat. Heat rushed south as he thought of those playful eyes turned up to look at him, the pouty pink lips around his cock. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Dragonborn. Just need to show me that you know how to handle a sword.”  
“Oh? You need your steel enchanted, old man? Your blade doesn’t work quite like it used to?” 

The wily young Dragonborn crossed his arms, but the rest of his body language suggested “come hither,” and his face was sharp and enchanting. 

“Teach me some spells, apprentice mage,” the guard teased. 

He took the Dragonborn by the arm, leading him out of the marketplace and into the back part of the city, where walls and houses stacked high and the gray lines of stone shielded one from the daylight. In his younger years, the guard recalled some drunken fumbles here, when he was young and had just been posted in Whiterun from Ivarstead. Just a rough and tumble country boy, getting his fill of mead and wine and the cock of a heavy set Redguard who rode into the Bannered Mare in the heat of summertime. 

And there he was, leading a man fifteen years his junior down an alleyway, his cock hardening under the leather of his armor.

Like it was nothing, the Dragonborn--probably the most powerful man living in all of Tamriel--descended to his knees without ceremony, unbuckling the guard’s belt and feeling for his erection in the thin trousers underneath.

“By Shor, you don’t waste any time, do you?”

The Dragonborn grinned, looking up at him in that perfect way, that dirty, bratty way he so desired.

“‘No lollygagging,’” he smirked. “Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?” 

And without delay, he took the older man’s cock into his mouth, suckling at the tip like it was the most delicious treat in the world. He was sloppy in the best way, but he had technique too, his tongue knew where it needed to be, his hand gripping at the base with just enough pressure. It was the kind of feeling only a man could give, knowing all the places that needed attention and just how to touch them. 

“You do this for every guard?” 

He was choking on his words now, burning up inside his steel helmet. He cursed this damn job and its horseshit pay. What he wouldn’t give for a full day and a featherbed with the Dragonborn wrapped up in its sheets.

“Only the ones I like.” The Dragonborn said smoothly, in between the kisses he was peppering down his length. The guard had a good, sturdy cock, one built for fucking and not for show. 

The younger man was taking every inch of it, his warm, wet mouth like Sovngarde. 

“Heard about you and your honeyed words,” managed the guard with huffing breaths. “Didn’t hear about your honeyed mouth, though.” 

He just murmured, and the guard could feel the vibrations of his humming along his length. He had slowed his pace down now, quite a bit. He slid his tongue lazily along the underside of his cock, letting saliva gather in his mouth. It was the wettest blowjob the guard had ever had in his life, and he had experienced a good handful, from many races, ages, and genders across Tamriel. It had him seeing stars, and his knees felt weak--and not the kind of weakness that he felt after a long shift of standing--his body could only focus on the pleasure it was being given. It made him wish he was free of his armor, somewhere where his back was supported and the lights were dim. Nine Divines, maybe he was getting old. 

“I want your helmet off,” the Dragonborn purred. His voice was softer now. The guard could see how easy it would be to give into his persuasions. 

“You want to see this ugly warrior’s mug?” 

“I want to see your face when you come, no matter what it looks like.”

Gods, it was easy to give in to a request like that.

The guard took off his helmet, revealing cropped red hair and a square jaw dotted with day old stubble. He looked weathered, with pockmarked cheeks and a jagged scar above his left eye. He had never been self-conscious about his looks, because there was never any real need to be. He wore a helmet every day, with the expectation that more scars would be made. He would never be wed to a woman of higher status, and knew not to link his appearance to his worth. However, the Dragonborn was so naturally handsome, so young and clean and beautiful, it made his stomach twist momentarily thinking of what they must look like together. 

“A warrior thinking too much? Rare for your kind,” the Dragonborn teased, but it lacked the edge that had spurred the guard on before. Instead, he was using humor to mask an otherwise uncomfortable topic. He was surprised the lad had even noticed his pang of anxiety at all.

“Mmm, you’re right. Think you ought to make me forget how to think,” the guard grunted.

He put his hand on the Dragonborn’s chin to put his cock in his hot, sweet mouth again, but the youthful spellsword didn’t really need direction. In seconds, he was slurping his cock down again, faster this time, with none of the teasing that had happened in the interim. It was hard not to match his furious pace; to thrust erratically into his mouth in search of the last bit of stimulation he needed to come. 

The Dragonborn was whining now, moaning with the older man’s thick cock filling his mouth. He was holding on tight while the guard facefucked him. It was a glorious sound to the weary guard’s ears, wet and loud, even his gagging was divine. He was doing his best to take all of it in his throat, using his hand to make up for what his mouth couldn’t do. 

The guard was so close to his orgasm, and the Dragonborn knew, perhaps before he did himself. His speed tapered off just enough to where it felt like he was hovering above the threshold of orgasm, back and forth, he felt like he could explode at anytime. 

“I just wanted you to wait until I could tell you to come,” the Dragonborn said. His pink lips and round chin were glossy with spit. His blue eyes narrowed like they did when he knew he was pushing the right buttons. “This isn’t how you thought it would go, is it?”

“No,” breathed the guard. But I love it, he thought.

The young Dragonborn smiled, stroking the guard’s cock and looking lazily up at him like a dog waiting for a piece of meat. He was goading him on, looking like that. All pretty and wrecked, with pink cheeks and messy hair, his mouth open. 

“You want to come, old man?”

The guard’s head fell back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. The Dragonborn’s thumb was gliding over the most sensitive part of his penis, right over the slit and down the head. It was the most subtle but powerful pleasure he had ever felt.

“Answer me, or I won’t let you,” he sang. It didn’t sound like an empty threat. It would be perfectly in character for him to walk away and leave the guard on the brink of orgasm.

“Yes! Divines, yes! Keep going!” 

The guard shouted, bracing himself as the Dragonborn’s mouth circled his cock once again.

“Go on, come for me,” the younger man cooed between the movement of the guard’s hips. 

The orgasm wracked his body, his stomach tensed up but his hips could not stop twitching forwards as he came. He could hardly shout out, just breathed heavily and grabbed onto the Dragonborn’s hair, pulling him down on his cock as much as he could. Come trickled out of the Dragonborn’s mouth and down his chin. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen, and the guard did his best to imprint it into his memory for future use. He was still regaining his faculties while the Dragonborn seemed none the worse for wear, licking up the come that had dripped onto his delicate hands. 

He kissed the guard’s cheek, whispering something about a feather bed, honeyed words, and a bellyful of mead. 

“Get on with you now, don’t you have a shift to finish? I think someone’s sweetroll got stolen,” he winked, dusting off the dirt from his knees and fingering his amulet back into place. He smiled playfully before trotting off towards the gates of the city. 

“Hey, Dragonborn,” yelled the guard after him. He turned abruptly. “Next time, I really do need to you enchant my blade.”


End file.
